I thought about it and realized I didn’t even know when Carina was due. I did the math quickly in my head and figured she must be close to eight months along. “She’s due next month sometime.”
Again, my mom was the first one to see the missing connection. “Next month? Why are we just now hearing about this if she’s eight months pregnant?”
My dad might as well have not even heard her. “No, Ian. When’s the wedding? If you haven’t already set the date, maybe you can do it soon or closer to Christmas so we can be there without having to book an extra flight home.
Did he really just ask me to plan my future around their trip next month. I laughed softly, trying to hold on to my patience, but it was hard when he always managed to push my buttons. I didn’t even know why I was shocked by his comment. Their lives—their trips—always came first. I looked across the table at their expectant eyes, and my blood pressure rose.
“There’s no wedding, and we’re not together. The reason you’re just now hearing about it is because I found out about it not too long ago.”
“What?” My mother lifted a trembling hand to her lips like I’d announced I murdered puppies.
“It was a single date—”
“Another one of your one-night stands,” my dad sighed, and I struggled not to react to his disapproval.
“It was a single date, and she didn’t have a way to get a hold of me. We happened to run into each other yesterday, and to say I was shocked was an understatement.”
Just reliving the moment now had my head spinning, and my heart thumping harder. The image of her tall body, round belly, and wide blue eyes stole my breath all over again.
“Well, I’m not surprised. I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen eventually from you. You never take things seriously.”
“Except my business,” I defended with my jaw clamped.
My dad leaned across the table, leveling the same gray eyes as mine at me, letting me feel the full weight of his disappointment. “Life is more than one-night stands and work, Ian.”
“Seriously?” I asked, gesturing to the two people who left me alone most of the time to work.
“We’re a family,” he proclaimed, stabbing the table like he was making his point.
“No, you and Mom are a family. I’m just some trophy you leave on the shelf at home.”
“Boys,” my mom admonished. “Not here. Please.”
My father leaned back in his chair, but nothing in his stare changed.
“When do we get to meet her?” My mother’s overly chipper tone tried to break the tension, and it barely put a crack in it.
“I don’t know. I’m meeting her for dinner tonight to discuss where we go from here.”
“You marry her,” my father decreed. “That’s where you go. I didn’t raise you to abandon your kid. For once, Ian, try to be dependable to someone other than yourself.”
“You didn’t raise me.” It was a petulant comment, but he was pushing me hard.
“Ian, please,” my mom pleaded quietly. She knew she was just as guilty as my father for leaving me alone.
I dragged a hand down my face and blew out a hard breath. I tried to get my irritation under control, but when I looked across the table and saw the contempt on my father’s face, I knew this lunch was over. Neither of us was backing down, and he wouldn’t hear anything I had to say past this. We both needed to cool down before any more talking happened.
“I have to get back to work,” I said, tossing money on the table for more than my meal. “I’ll keep you updated on what I can.”
Without bothering to meet their eyes or stay for hugs from my mom, I bolted. I needed to get back to work, something I couldn’t be questioned on.
Back at the office, I sank into my chair, grateful to not have run into anyone. I wasn’t in the mood to chat or explain my sour attitude. I looked at the clock and saw it was just past two. That gave me plenty of time to get through my crowded inbox and tackle a few phone calls. I needed to be done before seven, so I could meet Carina for dinner.
God, my heart thundered in my chest, sending an electric current of excitement through my veins. I’d thought about her more than I wanted to admit over the past eight months. Hell, even before then, when I’d only spoken to her briefly in the bar last year. She’d been beautiful and hurting, and I’d wanted to be the man to make her feel better, but she’d turned me down, which had probably been the right choice. I’d been drinking my woes away too, after another argument with my parents.
But after having her, tasting her, touching her, knowing what her cries of pleasure felt like, what her heat felt like wrapped around my cock, there was no coming back from that. I’d fucked a few women since then, but it’d been hard to concentrate on them, and Carina had always been there in the back of my mind. Now, I’d get to sit across from her for dinner and discuss our future.
The idea had a smile stretching my lips like a love-sick fool. Not that I loved her, but I loved that baby. I’d only rested my hand on her stomach, but the connection was there—the want and need were there. My dad could say all he wanted about me not being dependable, but that baby would know nothing other than devout devotion from me. It’d be the family I never had, and I couldn’t help but see Carina by my side in that image.
Maybe I’d leave work early and grab some flowers. The restaurant was just around the block, so I’d have plenty of time.
I hung up the phone, and dropped my head back on the leather seat, running my hand over my face. The phone call had gone on longer than I’d expected. Between the excruciatingly long conversation and my parents at lunch, my brain was fried. I was ready to power down my computer and go home, maybe drink and watch baseball until I passed out.
Just as my computer shut off, a woman came barreling in. She smiled as she prowled across the room, ocean blue eyes locked on me like I was fresh meat and she hadn’t eaten in years.
“Rebecca.”
One of the few women I’d had a repeat with over the past six months.
“Miss me?” she asked, rounding my desk.
Not really, but instead of answering, I gave her an easy smile. It wasn’t her fault; I just didn’t miss any of the women I fucked.
“Because I missed you.” She gripped the fabric of her pencil skirt at her hips when she stood before me and began bunching it up. “I happened to be in the area and thought, why not stop by for a quickie. You’ve always been up for that.”
She bared her creamy thighs exposed above her black lacy garters before she wedged her legs on either side of mine and straddled me. Immediately my hands moved to her hips to hold her steady, and she took the invitation to latch on to my neck, humming her approval.
I leaned back to give her room but hesitated when I thought of Carina. Would she care that I had a woman on my lap? It wasn’t like we were together, and I could really do with blowing off some steam for the day.
Just as I began to let myself give in to the woman on top of me, my eyes snagged on the clock on my desk. Seven-thirteen.
Alarm bells clanged in my head, and it hit me like a train—fucking dinner with Carina.
“Shit. Fuck. Fuck.”